


Little Izumi

by rhilicious



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhilicious/pseuds/rhilicious
Summary: Her toughest days are when she watches her actors on stage, finding herself yearning for the roles she never received— but if giving up her life-long dream meant that these boys could have a family they could call their own, Izumi would give up everyday.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45
Collections: A3 Tarot Zine





	Little Izumi

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the A3 Tarot Zine which you can check out [here](https://mega.nz/file/F24X3S5Q#0Ne7aRqazjk9sDWnynKGMJ2nO_G-Z6rv7DBzOKn_9ps) ! It's a wonderful project full of talented writers and artists who poured their hearts into their pieces!
> 
> The assigned major arcana card for Izumi is The High Priestess, so I dearly hope I was able to pull it off!

Rejection was the smallest grain of salt that rested in one’s soul, accumulating with every failure. In the first tragedy, it weighed almost nothing, light as the clouds above. With a pinch, it left a subtle taste— a seasoning that completed the best dishes. Soon it was a cup, one container too many, uncertainty brewing in one’s heart.

Choose to close your eyes, and the pile of crystals will spoil the flavor, ruining the dish completely. 

Izumi Tachibana ignored the taste, giving her brightest smile when asked if her food was satisfactory. 

It started when little Izumi carried her father’s legacy on her shoulders, expected to be great from the moment she took her first breath. She grew up surrounded by actors, observing different styles from professionals themselves— learning how to dream as soon as she learned how to sleep. It was then that the people knew. They knew that she was destined to be great. 

When Izumi debuted in her first school play, it was a beautiful disaster. 

Stuttering, flubbed lines, forgetting her blocking; little Izumi clumsily tripped on more props than she needed to. When the curtain call came, she proudly stood with the rest of the cast, not feeling a drop of shame. She laughed, and smiled; and her dearest father mirrored her sweet, innocent grin. She started her theater career early on with a clumsy start, but the people knew she needed just a little polishing before going down in Veludo Way history. 

So when Yukio disappeared, Izumi didn’t know what to do.

Even before he vanished into thin air, Izumi never had the luck of the gods on her side. Nevertheless, she persevered, knowing that her hard work would pay off someday. She auditioned for every play she came across, becoming a whirlwind that wreaked havoc on Veludo Way. At night, she would dream of acting and of audiences in awe; of blinding costumes, and gigantic props. 

She practiced and she dreamed; she yearned and she hoped. Izumi braved everything that came her way. She cried and she laughed, warm feelings bubbling in her chest whenever she felt like she was getting closer to her goal. When she reached her arms out, she touched air— still a long way to go.

Her love for her craft was unconditional, and it was what kept her going. 

Everyday, she dreamed of becoming someone who confidently enthralled her audience, telling a story that only she could deliver; she dreamed of becoming someone who could inspire the people she enchanted, the way she fell under the same spell all those years ago. She continued living her everydays, never daring to imagine a future where she wasn’t Izumi Tachibana, the actor. 

The biggest heartbreak of her life was not the first rejection she faced, nor was it being deprived of the main role for her favorite play. It was the day Izumi didn’t see her character, but herself. There was a trail of tears lining her face as she realized that the role was never meant for her— that maybe, just maybe, becoming an actor was never meant for her. 

Her hammy acting had no place on a stage, nor did it deserve to be seen by people. She tried her hardest, all by herself, and never received the results she wanted. She had no one to lean on anymore, and she had no one to help her bloom into the actor she could have been.

She really did love acting more than anything else. She loved it so much that it hurt. 

It simply didn’t love her the same way. 

The pure devastation that enveloped her would never be done justice with words alone. She felt like she was sinking to the bottom of a vast ocean, the water void of life. No seaweed clinging to her leg, and no impending danger in the shape of a shark; Izumi was alone, and she was suffocating. Every time she opened her mouth, water would enter, shortening the time she had left. She couldn’t open her eyes in fear of the salted water irritating them, and her body wouldn’t cooperate when she flailed about. She lived her everydays breathing in air that felt like sea water, desperately learning how to breathe again. 

Izumi was alone, but she still tried, albeit with a little less tenacity than the little girl who discovered theater for the first time. No matter how many heartbreaks she experienced, acting was still something she loved with her whole being. She picked up the pieces of her heart every time it cracked, piecing it together with the pure affection she held for her art. The shattered parts sliced her from time to time, but it was worth it. It was always worth it. 

When she became the director of the Mankai Company, she gained access to the world that once closed its doors to her. She thought she could breathe easy, only to be reminded of her past failures. 

She was no longer an actor, but whenever she watched a play she directed herself, she yearned. 

Her feelings never did disappear. She simply learned to live with them. They ate at her during practice for the various troupes, and when she watched plays by other companies. The taste of salt lingered in her mouth, yet, she never allowed it to consume her. She had a duty, and that was being a director of a theater company. 

Izumi didn’t just comply with her duties as a director; she became the person she needed when she was young. 

She became the escort of actors with untapped potential, helping them grow into the best versions of themselves. Outside the theater, she continued looking after them, never allowing them to go through their grief alone. She became a friend who her actors could lean on, and a mentor who gave the best advice.

In the end, she wouldn’t have traded what she had for the spotlight. Izumi Tachibana could have abandoned everything and continued chasing her own dream, changing her course of action in order to become who she had always wanted to be. Instead, she chose to make the dreams of her actors come true. The forked road that she once faced was finally behind her, having chosen the path of a director; directing plays that only she could direct.

If throwing away her yearning of becoming royalty up on stage would allow Muku to become the prince of his dreams, she’d do it over and over again. If moving on from her failures would give her the wisdom to guide Sakyo to become the best actor he can be, she’d do it without a moment’s hesitation. If letting go of the past could lead to Itaru finding a place where he could truly be himself, she would have let go from the moment she entered the Mankai Company’s doors for the first time in eight years. 

If giving up her life-long dream meant that these boys could have a family they could call their own, Izumi would give up everyday. 

When the taste of salt dawdled, she never had to deal with it by herself. When it all became too much, she came back to a fresh batch of scones made especially for her, and a cooled pack of face masks fresh from the mall. On her desk, she would find a brightly colored stone in the shape of a triangle; and when she was awfully quiet, she would be invited to practice a few lines in private, spending time with the people she loved the most. 

A little wiser, a little stronger, Izumi accepted her new role through letting go of a dream that placed her in the world of theater in the first place. But sometimes, she’d argue she never lost anything. 

When Izumi glanced at the family waiting for her at the dinner table, she realized she didn't give up her dream. She _traded_ it for a new one. It was a dream that bubbled in excitement at the thought of a new play, and a dream that learned how to make friends— a dream that learned that perfection was not everything, and a dream that discovered passion for the first time. 

This new dream collectively smiled back at her, motioning her to join the group for supper. Izumi felt a different type of ache. A pleasant pang in her chest, stinging in her cheeks— happiness painted a unique glow on her face. 

Like how a tree sheds its leaves during the changing of seasons, Izumi allowed herself to bear the pain she felt, letting go when she felt she was ready. She braved the cold uncertainty, waiting for the spring that would soon blossom into a season far more beautiful than anything she has ever seen.

And this time, little Izumi Tachibana wouldn’t be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being a little more personal than I expected. Long and personal ramble incoming, but I started writing this after being rejected too. My feelings of working hard and getting nowhere are so ingrained in this work that it feels too different from everything else I've written. I've loved something for so long, for too long; but it slipped out of my reach. I guess what separates me from Izumi is that she found where she's supposed to be, while I'm still kind of stuck in limbo. Izumi is waiting for Spring while I'm still stuck in the middle of Winter— but the season will pass soon. I pray for it everyday.


End file.
